


Drafts

by baranduin



Series: No Night Is Too Long [5]
Category: No Night is Too Long (2002)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-14
Updated: 2010-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-06 06:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baranduin/pseuds/baranduin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ivo's POV. Poor Ivo. It must be very taxing to be so obsessed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drafts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the fanfic100 community challenge #020--Colourless.

~ Aboard the Favonia: Tuesday ~

My dearest Tim,

Do you wonder that I call you 'dearest'? So do I, but only sometimes. The rest of the time it is only natural that I should do so, even when you disappoint me as you often do.

Damn. I told myself that I wouldn't start up with you this way, that I would write only cheerful, impersonal news of my trip and I will, but I just can't seem to get my mind around doing that at the moment.

First, I must tell you that you were right about coming with me on this trip. Yes, feel free to take out an advertisement, telling the world (or at least the inhabitants of P.) that I have finally admitted you were correct about something. And not just any little something, but a matter of importance. Though the thought of you broadcasting anything about the true nature of our relationship is, I expect, more than I could, well, expect from you. Perhaps some day, when you've grown up a little more, when I've had more time to educate you …

I should have found a way for you to come with me. I know I said it was impossible and I know it would have been, and I know I said we'd wait until next year to go together and I will make that happen, I have it in my power to do so. But the truth is that it's awful being aboard this ship with no prospect of seeing you or talking with you. Touching you.

So you will have to reconcile yourself to the fact that I will be showering you with love letters. I'll try not to be overly ardent though it will be hard.

Enough of that. On with the travelogue. I promise not to be too scholarly and dull.

We left Juneau yesterday during a dull drizzle, not enough to count as rain but enough for it and its accompanying grey mist to muffle anything with a colour outside a very narrow range that I'd say fell somewhere between iron and cigarette ashes.

You see, that's my problem and it's been an unpleasant discovery to make. Though I love Alaska, love coming on these trips each summer, look forward to the brilliant colour and life and everything there is on offer here that I cannot find at home (other than you, who are more brilliantly coloured than any sweep of intensely blue sky), I'd just as soon that it rained the rest of the trip.

It's not raining today, so I should be as ecstatic as the Favonia's passengers are. I must say it's been a perfect day as far as being outside. Before I left, I know I told you (way too many times) that the colours in Alaska are the cleanest and truest I have ever seen. I believe you were rather disbelieving to me in reply, not to say downright rude. I wonder if you'll find it amusing that, now I've got a perfect day, I want nothing more than for the weather to take on the dull hues of how I feel inside.

The thing is, I came on this trip without you on purpose. I could have managed to get you a cabin, we're not full up. There are always cancellations, so I could have managed it. I don't think you realize just how much you've taken over my thoughts, how much I long for you. I know that I have never said the words out loud to you; nevertheless, you must have guessed by now, you must. As much as I chide you for your own benefit, you are not a stupid person and we have grown so close in so brief a time. But I don't think you have the slightest realization of how deeply I care for you or how desperately I need for you to be in my life always. I'm repeating myself, aren't I? But that's what first drafts are for, aren't they, for getting all one's thoughts down without the benefit of the inner editor? Or whatever it is you've called it when talking to me about fiction writing. I suppose it goes for real-life writing as well.

So I set myself a test to see how I would do without you for an extended period of time. I know I made light of it when you complained. And oh how you complained. It delighted me and made sticking to my word that much more difficult. Your demands to be brought along on this trip thrilled me. To me it was the proof without the words that I have needed, and for some odd reason, it made it that much more important for me to be away from you for these months.

And now I find I have been hoist with my own petard. Because nothing, not the glorious mountains or my beloved glaciers or the thought of seeing old Backbite again—nothing can lift this film of drab nothingness which has settled over my eyes and will remain there until I see you again.

I love you, Tim. I cannot bear to be without you. I love you I love you I love you I love you I love ----------------

Fuck.

* * *

~ Aboard the Favonia: Wednesday ~

Dear Tim,

I've been very busy today, what with the tour beginning and everyone getting settled in, not to mention the glorious weather we're having. It's almost as if my mind cannot retain the fact of the sheer beauty of this place and I must spend the first few days becoming accustomed to it all over again every time I come here. But as I've said, we've all been very busy and I think we've got an interesting group this time.

It's getting late, but I wanted to write and set down my impressions for you while they're still fresh. I'm sure all this will whet your appetite for next year.

As a matter of fact, I've got an entertaining story as a starter for you ...

...

...

...

yours,

Ivo


End file.
